


Don't you be afraid of love and affection

by Adeline_Hatter



Series: Friends to Enemies to Lovers is Very Very Sexy [6]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Moving On, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Talking, Teacher AU, The TARDIS Ships It (Doctor Who), The TARDIS being petty, ThoscheiLockdown2020, ThoscheiLockdownExchange, university professors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23295787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adeline_Hatter/pseuds/Adeline_Hatter
Summary: The new Professors of Advanced Physics and History are certainly an interesting pair.... When they aren't fighting over something petty.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: Friends to Enemies to Lovers is Very Very Sexy [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609696
Comments: 7
Kudos: 105
Collections: Thoschei Lockdown The First 2020





	Don't you be afraid of love and affection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thoscheigay (fluffysfics)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffysfics/gifts).



> Enjoy!!! This probably wasn't what you had in mind but I kind of mixed all three of your prompts together into this bundle of mess?
> 
> These are the prompts!!
> 
> PROMPT: post-Timeless Children vault fic where the Doctor keeps the Master on board her TARDIS (he’s there voluntarily), can be soft or can be sad 
> 
> PROMPT: 13/Dhawan AU where they’re both teachers & have a friendly rivalry and everyone in their classes thinks they’re dating (spoilers: They Are)
> 
> PROMPT: alt ending for Timeless Children where Ko Sharmus doesn’t interrupt them in the Matrix Chamber.

Greens and picket fences… Grey skies overcast in the Sheffield sky through the windows of the lecture hall and their lecturer was talking a mile a minute. 

The Advanced Physics course always gave people a chance to practice their shorthand as she never slowed down and when she paused everyone took a deep breath before she continued onwards. 

Doctor J Smith was put forward as a marvel in the community, which was strange because the last Doctor Smith that had taught at a University had been a grey haired scotsman just within the London area. 

Some students decidedly weren’t paying attention every time her coat shifted just right and her hair flared as her voice carried out equation after equation. 

Hands would go up in the air and she would keep on talking, she didn’t like questions but no one bothered to hand the information over to newcomers of the class either. 

Across the hall, another Professor would discuss history and all of its many shortcomings, mostly he tended to focus on where certain global powers went wrong, a lengthy rant on how Gengis Khan really would have been successful if he hadn’t been so stupidly human. 

That had confused his students of course it had, it always did, even the ones who weren’t listening and were instead trying to catch a glimpse of how his suit sat just right.

It did not however confuse Doctor Smith. 

* * *

  
  
  


“You came here voluntarily.” 

“I didn’t know I’d have to get a job, at least give me something interesting to do won’t you?” The Master leant back in the chair in her office, she always got an office, it was bigger than his too, it always was, always apt too, “Professor Orpheus Magister of History, at least you let me pick my own name.” 

The Doctor leant back in her own chair, mirroring him, “Yes and it’s ridiculous like always, but you still said you’d try.”    
  
“I thought you’d stick me back in the vault.”    
  
“That didn’t work last time.” Her eyes traced over him, as if remembering his former features, she sits up, hair swinging around her chin like it did and he definitely didn’t trace the movement, even as he cocked his head and jutted his chin out in a pout, “So, new tactic, voluntary exile on Earth for the next nine hundred and thirty years.” 

He waved his hand as he jumped up out of his chair, “And what? We’re gonna be Professors for the next nine centuries?”

“No, course not!” Her accent comes out thicker than usual as she grins, “We’ll switch Universities every fifty years or so!” 

Voluntary Exile for centuries… With the Doctor’s undivided attention…

“You’ll get bored, you always get bored.” He speaks it, she looks at him, pauses then sits up herself, looking at him with those shining hazel eyes, “You get bored, Doctor.” 

“Not of you.” She whispers it, standing, checking the clock, “You have another class to teach in half an hour.” 

Her hand lands against his chest and there’s a feral grin on her face, she’s enjoying this, enjoying the indignation on his face and the quiet raging in his hearts over it. 

But, he wonders if she’s waiting for him to leave, just like he’s waiting for her to get bored of him, so many lifetimes and she could get so bored. 

She smiles at him though and his hearts pulse, he forgot how nice it was to have that smile directed at him. 

* * *

  
  


The rumours of the new Professors circulated like wildfire in the month following their arrival, some students started bets about how long they’d stay, others about their love lives.

Some dubbed them a nightmare, a crisis waiting to happen as they always seemed to get into petty squabbles across the hallway in the doors of their respective lectures, bickering like a married couple only worse as it seemed like they’d been doing it for centuries sometimes. 

What scared people sometimes were the grins, big and what could only be described as  _ Feral  _ energy that went between them. 

“I really hope they fuck.” One student stated to another when the latest argument turned up, as predicted most of the time it was over something really simple, “Dear gods, I really hope they fuck.” It was a whisper that went just ignored. 

This conversation was picked up in a pub later that evening, Molly Gordon knocked back a pint as Jordan Smith transcribed the latest argument to their friend.

“So, the Doctor says and I quote ‘If you know that Hitler’s alive then I’ve seen Jane Austen fight sontarans’ and weren’t Sontarans those things we all saw when we were like ten??? Those things that looked like fucking potatoes or some shit like that?” Jordan scooped his fingers back through his hair, “Anyway, so Professor Magister replied “I know that Hitler’s alive because I’m the one that killed him, love!” and that seems a little contradictory ya know?”

Molly placed her empty glass on the bar, “Honestly, I just want to get through the semester with my insanity in check.” She threw a lock of ginger hair over her shoulder, flagging down the bartender, “Gracie, you would not believe what these two are like, it’s like they aren’t even human…” 

Gracie Bridges smiled, “I mean, course they are… Who walks around with names like The ‘Doctor’ and the ‘Master’-” 

“Excuse me?” The three of them turned to face an older man, middle aged or thereabouts with a sandwich in front of him, “Could you repeat that?”

* * *

  
  


“What’s your latest lesson then? In being good?” 

“Don't have one.” She lets him swoop her hair away from her face as she bends over the device in her hands, she hears the snap of a hairband before she heard him walk around the TARDIS’s console room, a protest rising in her beautiful box that she set quiet with a simple note of relaxation, “Don’t have a lecture either, you haven’t exactly stepped across the line of evil recently.” 

She lifted her gaze to look at him, pushing her goggles back on the top of her head, inclining her head in a silent question of why.

“The TARDIS hid my room again.” The Master states it, hands in pockets as he glares at her console, “Thought I might have been being punished.”

The Doctor sighs, turning her gaze towards the console and away from him, “Come on sexy, he’s apologised and we’re both trying something new- Did I lock him up on you?” A pointed whine, “He sleeps here, he doesn’t spend all of his time here…” More noise, this time surrounding where the Master stood glaring, “I’ll take him out later okay, will you give him his room back? Please? For me?”

Silence. 

“She hates me.”    
  
“You did turn her into a paradox machine…”    
  
“I WAS NINE HUNDRED AND FOUR!!!” He yells it, glaring harder, “And I have apologised for that, profusely.” 

The TARDIS laughs, the Master growls and the Doctor takes her goggles off, “Wanna go get a drink?” She offers, standing up and brushing her hands together, “I’m almost done with the maintenance so…?”

“....Alright.” The Master pulls his hands from his pockets and starts rolling his sleeves down again, “But you're buying…”    
  
She groans, “So, I have to do all the work then?”

“You are the one who put me on earth, love.” 

She turns away to hide her smile, “Have you seen my coat?”    
  
“It’s in the library, I’ll get it for you.” 

His footsteps echo up the stairs, when she’s sure he’s gone far enough away she approaches the console, “Sexy, come on- I know I haven’t contacted the fam, you don’t need to remind me, I’m going to- I have to get him more settled you know that- Look, please just give ‘im his room back?”

The noise she receives is what she would consider an ‘Oh, alright whatever’ before a victorious little yell was heard down the hall. 

“Thank you…” The Doctor patted her console. 

* * *

  
  


The crowd ebbed and flowed around them, it was less busy then London would usually be at this time, but he doesn’t get it… 

Why she’s so attached to the people around him, why she smiles at the sight of a group of friends yelling and laughing nearby. 

Her hands stay stuffed in her pockets and his float by his side, they stick out in a crowd, not because of fashion choices- Though, no matter what the Doctor ended up wearing it was ridiculous -it was because of who they were as people. 

What the Master would admit in his own head was how nice it felt to have a bit of anonymity in this world, amongst humans where he could just simply… Disappear.

He glances at her, he wonders why he had taken her hand in the chamber instead of pressing the button, wonders why he’s even  _ here  _ standing by her side, walking with her like they're in the academy again. 

The days when they were so small they could get away with holding hands for hours on end, neither willing to let go. 

_ I am so much more than you.  _

The first rule the Doctor had cited when she wore bowties and had a chin that could punch a dalek out was that she lied… All timelords lied really, that’s the one thing they were good at after all, lying, the only thing they were ever any good at was lying-

Especially lying to children. 

He watches the Doctor as she walks through this crowd of human beings, of apes in clothing with less hair, he watches her ebb and flow as she leads the way to a pub he guesses… He hadn’t been to a pub in… 

It’s so normal, like they were in another life… He misses his TCE when someone knocks into his shoulder, but a hand is quick to pull him more securely into her side, before said hand returns to a pocket. 

She hadn’t even looked when she’d done it. 

He doesn’t think about how warm her touch had been, despite the thickness of his coat and the quick fluid moment of touch it had been…

They are anonymous in this crowd, when in his eyes they should be bowing at their feet… So unaware her humans were, that she floated within their presence, their savior a thousand times over, more than they could have ever comprehended. 

Her eyes glanced at him, studying him with hazel and gold as she took massive strides like she was still the one with the hair, walking like she owned the world around her. 

His hands swing by his side and he wishes briefly that he had gloves, before he feels soft and smaller, but slender fingers curling around his own. 

The Master doesn’t look, he just enjoys the feeling of his hand being stuffed into her pocket with hers. 

* * *

  
  


He doesn’t let go and neither does she, even as they order two pints to go hide in a corner of the pub.

The Doctor is reminded of nights spent drinking with their friends, when they’d hold hands under the table, before leaning on each other and giving up on subtly, she is reminded of this as she slides unbidden into the same side of the booth as him, drinks in front of her. 

“We can’t stay on earth for nine hundred and thirty years.” He declares it, just loud enough for only her to hear, his eyes scanning the pub around them but his grip tightens just a little on her hand, “You think I’m going to see something beautiful in the human race- But I’m not, not like you did.” 

This is a whisper directly into her ear and it sends a bit of a thrill down her spine, she hadn’t let anyone else get as close to her as him, “Well, we’ll just have to wait and see won’t we?”

“That was a lot of ‘W’ in that sentence.” 

“You like it when I use words beginning with ‘W’ in my accent though.” His silence was what confirmed it. 

The Master sipped his drink, she grinned at him brightly, “Don’t be smug dear, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“Everything suits me.”

“Hm, debatable.” She sipped her drink and debated shifting a little closer, he was warm and it was cold, his fingers squeezed hers again and he sighed, “Though, seriously, I remember many of your coats, most of them were ugly things.” 

She gasps, “They were not!”    
  
“Your sixth incarnation says otherwise.” 

“Well, what about you? You seemed to only know two senses of style, Black or… Black with red.” The Doctor watched him twist his features as she squeezed his hand, “Not to mention your beards…”    
  
The Master made a noise of indignation, “My facial hair has always been immaculately groomed.” 

She spoke into her drink, “Wasn’t talking about the facial hair.” 

To her surprise, she watched him smile, felt him squeeze her hand and she felt like she was ninety-seven again. 

Across the pub, a yelling match had started, “Ah, Man-united vs Liverpool… That’s funny since we’re in Sheffield.” The Master knew about football? She turns to him and raises her eyebrows, “What? I keep up? Don’t know how to play the game, but when fans like this get into arguments it’s probably going to end in-” 

The sound of a punch being thrown was heard.

“-violence.” His eyes sparkled, but didn’t move from her face, gazing at her with a bit of deranged madness, “Do you remember when we’d get into bar fights?” 

She ignored the other emotion building on his face, “Yes, usually I punched you.” 

“I let you.” 

“You did not, always had quicker reflexes.” She sips some more of her drink, letting the bitterness wash over her tongue, it took a lot to get a timelord drunk- Or at least whatever it was she was drunk, “No matter the regeneration.” 

His head tilts in interest, “So, why didn’t you stop me from kissing you in 3W?”   
  
“You caught me by surprise and accosted me.” 

“You didn’t exactly complain… Then you kissed me in the graveyard too…” But he paused and took a deep breath “I’m sorry I accosted you when we were surrounded by undead cybermen, it was a little unromantic of me.” 

Her eyebrows raised further, “A  _ little _ ?”

“ _ Very  _ unromantic of me.” He conceded, his hand let go of hers and she missed the warmth before an arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, “Now, would you look at that, drinks and a show, I’ve brought you somewhere nice.” 

She rolled her eyes, “I brought you out and bought you the drink.”    
  
“Details…” He was trailing off and playing with her hair as his eyes moved to look at the brawl beginning to get slowly more violent as more people got involved, “They should really take it outside, this is a nice pub.” 

The Doctor pulled away a bit to look at him properly, “Why did you decide to do a voluntary exile?”

His fingers pause in her hair, before twisting some behind her ear without even looking, he hums and she knows he isn’t going to answer so she huffs and turns back to watch the fight, then pulls her phone out of her pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling the police, just imagine the chaos.” She replied. 

She knew he smiled, she could feel it.

* * *

  
  


They had so much to talk about. 

So many conversations that should be had sooner rather than later, but the words escape her- Not good at words this time around, then again she never has been… When she’d had the hair it’d been different, even if it hadn’t worked in the end not really, but nothing ever did. 

But there’s this thrill in it that she wanted to be selfish… Which probably wasn’t a good feeling to have, his hand in hers always felt the same and she wondered briefly what it would be like to kiss him when he had this face.

They stood across the street and watched as the police invaded the pub, everyone who’d been involved in the fight being dragged out one by one, some yelling and others screaming as loudly as they could.

She leans against the wall behind them, his hand in hers and in her pocket when she sees a familiar figure and just… Stills. 

“We should go.” She whispers to him, starting to move but he stays firmly in place, eyes trained on Yasmin Khan in uniform, there’s a crowd gathered around them but she doesn’t doubt that Yaz will spot them if given the chance, she tugs on his hand, “We should go…” She repeats, he looks at her, confusion on his face before it clicks. 

The Master leans just that tiny inch downwards, they are relatively hidden, but his free hand pulls her hood up, brushing her hair a bit, “You haven’t told them you're alive yet?” It’s a mutter, he glances out of the corner of his eye at the same time she does, but they remain more or less hidden by the humans that crowd to watch people get arrested and statements get taken. 

The Doctor tilts her head up at him just a little, but she doesn’t answer, a strike of guilt echoing through her chest and into her bones. 

“I want a therapist.” He states it, just loud enough for her to hear as the sky crackles above them, he leans forwards, shielding by her hood and presses a kiss to her forehead with a tender kind of grace before he leans away, glances once more across the street and grins, “May I suggest you find one too?”

She shoves him away pointedly, but he doesn’t go far as his grip on her hand tightens, linked like waffles, “Why a therapist?”

“That’s usually what depressed people get right?” He shrugs, tugging her along down the street, his eyes flick over the other side of the street, where she refuses to look, “You can help me google tomorrow.” 

The Doctor shakes her head, “I’ll look on the UNIT database, they may be closed down by the government but I still have their systems and they have some on there that wouldn’t need much explaining to.” 

He pauses at the corner, to look at her, “Are you seriously going to find me one?”   
  
“Do you seriously want one?” 

His mouth opens, then closes and then, he says this ever so softly. 

“Yes.” 

* * *

  
  


He counts the heads in his class and notices always when there’s one less or one more. 

The Master doesn’t miss a beat as he goes over the actual history of the invention of the Babbage Engine, but halfway through the description of the way Ada Lovelace meets Charles Babbage he sees them.

He attempts to remember their name as he prattles on, the Doctor had mentioned them before and they had met, more than once, “My recommended reading on this subject is a graphic novel depiction that mixes fantasy and fact, by Sydney Padua.” 

Briefly, he thinks about being flattered that the…  _ Spy  _ has chosen to invade his class and not the Doctor’s across the hall, then he remembers that it’s her day off and she’s choosing to maintain her TARDIS…

So, things he’d said did stick with her sometimes.

His students are all still paying attention, but he’s more interested in the pair of eyes watching him than anything else. 

“Question time… Question time… SINCLAIR!” He yells and watches everyone but the aforementioned jump, “Got a question?”

Ryan looks at him from his spot at the back of the lecture hall, a glare working it’s way onto his face but settling down quickly as Molly Gordon bows her head next to him looking relatively guilty. 

“How do you know the Professor across the hall?”

His whole class falls silent. 

“Old friends.” The Master states it and watches every piece of attention snap to him in a single moment, “Now, I meant questions on the subject, not about my personal relationships.” 

Whispers and murmurs break out amongst the crowd and he rolls his eyes as he turns back to his chalkboard. 

“Now, back to Lovelace, who is a very underrated Lady, she deserves a lot of attention, Ada was born in 1815, she would live to the age of Thirty-Six, as I mentioned before in the story of how she met Babbage-” 

Attention is kept on him for the next twenty minutes that’s full of suspicion but just the right touch of curiosity. 

* * *

  
  


Ryan pats Molly’s back as she breathes in and out.

“I cannot believe you talked to Professor Magister like that-” There’s a tiny waiver of panic in her voice and he feels a little guilty over it, “-if he finds out I’m the one who brought you to class I’m dead- I… Forget your friend’s number, Ryan, I’m out.” 

She pushed him away with no conviction, stalking away down the hall leaving Ryan to stare after her, it was a good thing he’d never mentioned the offer of a number to Yaz now with this outcome.

He stands there for a moment before a hand wraps around his wrist and pulls him sharply back into the classroom. 

The Master looks at him and briefly Ryan considers that the man is a lot stronger then he looks, “Well, what are you doing here?”   
  
“Me? What are  _ you  _ doing here?” Ryan answers the question with another question, “You should be dead- You and the Doctor, but you aren’t, you two are here in Sheffield and we find out because Grandad overhears your students in a pub!” 

With credit due, the Master simply straightens up, “She was intending to tell you when we were settled properly.” 

“Settled? We?” 

“Yes, you have come to interrupt a lesson in good.” His hands go in his pockets, pushing the purple wool coat out of the way to do so, the Master tilts his head at him and regards him like his teachers used to do in school, “I’m in a Voluntary Exile.” 

Ryan blinks, “On… Earth?”

“Yes.”   
  
“In… Sheffield?”    
  
“Well, where else?” The Master takes a step back and moves towards the pile of papers on a desk in front of the chalkboard, “Though, that being said you didn’t have to come to my lecture to investigate, the Doctor’s back tomorrow with her own.” 

He starts to leaf through the papers, “Are you seriously trying to be Good?” His eyes narrow at the timelord who laughs like he’s just said the funniest thing in the world.

“I’ll never be good.” It’s a statement, as the Master turns his gaze back to Ryan and he’s taken aback because it’s a look that feels familiar but he can’t place, “Good is overrated, no, I’ll be kind enough… For the Doctor, for the universe.” 

He said it as if the two were one in the same. 

Ryan looks at the Master, the Master looks at Ryan. 

“Are you a Grandfather?” It slips out before he can stop it and he watches as the Master stands up straighter again, eyes gliding towards the window, “Sorry, I don’t know why I asked that… I don’t trust you.” 

To Ryan’s surprise the Master laughs, “Then you are a smart man, I don’t meet many smart humans, Ryan.” His eyes come back and they are wide, humour sparkling in them, “And yes, I am.” 

Silence settles between them, before the Master coughs.

“She’ll be by in a bit so we can get lunch, she gets lonely… If you want to grab the others and come down you can see her if you want to.” He shrugs, picking up the papers and leading Ryan back to the door, offering no further explanations of children or grandchildren, “I’ll get some entertainment out of watching her squirm.” 

And the bastard was back as he shoved Ryan out the door of his lecture hall. 

* * *

  
  


She won’t stop glaring at him. 

It’s not unfamiliar of course, an action she’s taken no matter her face towards him at least once- Even if she’s not met all of his faces, she’s sure there’s one or two she’s missing, but that doesn’t make him any less of an  _ arse.  _

“It wasn’t my fault, dear.” He says and her eyebrows go up, “The young human waltzed into my lecture with Molly Gordon next to him, must have roped her into it the poor lass-” He feigns a scottish accent that almost sounds like she used to, “-and I simply ask him to dinner, what could go wrong?”

The Doctor continues to glare at him, “You didn’t have to-”

“And you were going to tell them you were alive, you promised and yet… Here we are.” The Master sits up in the chair he’s sat in, the TARDIS library sprawled around them with the pool quietly steaming next to them, a copy of Emma by Jane Austen in his hands, “I told him I was on a Voluntary Exile, so you won’t have to explain that much to them.” 

She sighs, but keeps the glare, “I will have to explain why you are even here- Why you are still alive?”

“Just tell them the same thing we told your parents? We got drunk and got stupid with each other and bands of metal.” 

“I should have signed the divorce papers-” 

“But ya didn’t.” He sounds far too pleased about that, her hearts give the tiniest little leap of joy and she chooses to ignore it, “There is a very simple way you know, of making sure they don’t come to dinner?”

“And what’s that exactly?”

The Master sits up and looks at her and in a moment, he’s younger, they both are, “You visit them and tell them the truth of course.” 

“....About everything?”    
  
“Yes, you tell them everything, including the conversation in the Matrix room that led us here.” 

She looks at him, he looks back and she groans, turning around, “When did you get emotionally stable?”

“Ryan reminded me of something today, also if I’m stable it makes you look worse.” 

The Doctor blinks, “You remember his name?” She asks, choosing to ignore the rest of his sentence, but living it implied that she knew exactly what he said by glaring a bit hard.

“I remember all their names.” He is distastefully honest as he turns his gaze back at the book in his hands, “You know what you have to do.” 

She did, she genuinely did. 

  
  


* * *

_ It had scared her the look in his eyes, that’s why she had lowered it.  _

_ Because he wanted her to do it, he wanted to die and he wanted her to do it.  _

_ So, how could she do it? _

_ “What are you waiting for, Doctor?” He all but yells it, the Cybermasters stood to attention, waiting- Always waiting, why hadn’t he used them on the fam- On the last of humanity? “Kill me!”  _

_ She looks at him and really, truly  _ looks  _ this time.  _

_ “No.” Her voice is quiet as she blinks, as she straightens and watches him blink too, “Not this time, not after all… No.”  _

_ She places the Death Particle next to her slowly, he watches her do it and tears shine in her eyes, “Why not?” And his voice cracks, like she’s done something far worse. _

_ “Because I don’t want revenge on you.” She looks around the room, at the abominations standing present and ready, “I don’t want you to suffer, Master.”  _

_ He laughs, cruelly, disbelieving, “I’m not suffering! Never have been! Honestly, Doctor you are just making excuses for being a coward again!”  _

_ The Doctor holds out her hand between them, “Come with me.”  _

_ It’s a soft sentence and he closes his eyes.  _

_ “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” She repeats it, hoping for a different outcome, “Koschei, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”  _

_ He looks at her hand, not at her face and it’s a long drawn out moment before she lets her hand drop and resentment wells in her chest again- Betrayal settling in before his own comes up between them.  _

_ “Take it.” He states it, quiet and broken as if he is waiting for her to push him away, for her to leave him here with a weapon and his creatures, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted but don’t you see? You can’t- I can’t touch you.”  _

_ She looks at him and sees a boy, small with the bluest eyes she’d ever encountered, aged eight on the first day of the academy- Her first crush, her first friend, her first- _

_ “I’ll kill the Cybermasters, but not you.” She takes his hand, she doesn’t batter it away, her fingers slip into his and he lifts her hand to his lips and he kisses it, “So, much for not being able to touch me.”  _

_ He doesn’t let go of her hand as he stands up straighter and takes a step towards her, “These things can’t be fixed Doctor-”  _

_ “I beg to differ, we got close before and then you betrayed me.”  _

_ “No, you left me.”  _

_ “You left with Saxon-”  _

_ “No, I stabbed Saxon, you left.”  _

_ She pauses, “....Oh…”  _

_ “That’s my name.” His lips don’t quirk but she feels a thread of humour, “You left me, Theta, you left.” _

_ “I thought you’d left me- Then I regenerated and fell from the sky.” She frowns, “You killed Bill-” _

_ The Master grabs her wrist instead of her hand, letting it go just for a moment before sealing the contact, “Not willingly.”  _

_ “But you still did it, you let her be converted-”  _

_ “And yet you want me to come with you, where would we go?” _

_ “Earth?” She suggests and watches his eyes roll, “We could try again, I still have to guard you for nine hundred and thirty odd years-”  _

_ His hand seals itself around her neck, then pulls on her hair, just a bit before drawing back, she lets him touch her- Why does she let him touch her, “I’m not going back in the Vault, never again- You have no idea how hellish that was.”  _

_ “It didn’t really work did it?” _

_ “No, no it didn’t.” It’s a murmur as he leans his head on her shoulder, hands slipping, “Will you really kill them?” _

_ It’s quiet and she looks around at the Cybermasters, the abominations he built, she thinks she knows why but will not speak it outloud, just in case she’s mistaken, “Only if you agree to come with me, you come with me I’ll burn them all alive-”  _

_ “Good enough.” And he presses a kiss to her collarbone, standing up straighter, “I want to finish this conversation- We’ll have many conversations.”  _

_ She looks at him and her hearts beat a little faster, “You’re coming?” _

_ “Moment they’re ashes.” He pauses, looks her over and grins, it’s manic and far too familiar, “But… I want to test a theory?” _

_ “...What theory?” _

_ “See if you can take back what they stole, Doctor.” The Master positively beams, “For me?” _

_ Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try. _

* * *

  
  


“......The Master is alive too?” Yaz blurts it out at the dinner table at the Doctor, then looks at the two men sitting with her, “Did you two know about this?” Her voice raises a little bit, as the Doctor looks between them all, one by one. 

Ryan looks more guilty then Graham does and Yaz feels the rage tamper down the joy at the fact the Doctor’s alive, “I cannot believe you-” She stands, she sits, she stands again and then starts to pace the length of her kitchen, “I thought I saw you, the other night when we were called to break up a fight- I thought I saw both of you across the street and I was… I was right!” 

The Doctor doesn’t say anything, her story is complete and Yaz supposes she’s run out of words for once. 

“I thought you were dead.” Yaz whispers it, softly with barely a moment of consideration to it. 

Guilt laces through the Doctor’s face, “Yaz-” 

But she doesn’t give her a chance to finish as she hugs her, in a death grip. 

“So…” Graham starts, as the Doctor slowly hugs Yaz back, arms looser and her expression present to the others but not to Yaz, “Where is the Master now?”

The Doctor pats Yaz’s back, “He went to visit an old friend of ours.” 

“He has friends?” Ryan voices, it’s supposed to be a joke and Yaz laughs a little bit as she pulls away from the Doctor, “Doesn’t really seem the type.” 

She shrugs at them, “Well, she is the only human he respects and actually likes.” 

* * *

  
  


She tucked herself into the sofa as she watched the man across from her pour her a cup of tea and offer it to her. 

“Ms Grant-” The Master began again and she waved him off, “-Jo.” He amended. 

She laughs, “You are still somehow a Gentleman after all these years aren’t you Master?” He offers her the cup of tea and she takes it with a wide smile, “It’s so much easier to tell you and the Doctor apart you know, simply by your manners.” 

“Believable, you should see her now, she’ll eat anything and wave all pretense at being ‘Mysterious’ if it serves her purpose.” He leans back in his own chair, even as Jo blinks at him, “Oh yes, the Doctor is a woman now…. I think, never sure on gender.” 

Jo smiles, “That does sound like the Doctor… Honestly I haven’t seen her since she had this weird chin thing happening- Very young and handsome if a bit rude.” 

“Yes, I stayed away from him mostly because he was rude to you.” 

She laughs, “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I did.” The Master states it with a wide grin, sips his tea and picks up a biscuit, “How are you Jo?”

She sighs, contentedly, “Oh you know, same old, the kids come and go- Santiago is just about to finish at University, a masters in ancient history, you’d like him.” 

“He’s which of your grandchildren?” He asks it, but she rolls her eyes, knowing he already knows which one, “That’s good, but you know me Jo, never really like humans.” 

Her eyebrows go up, “Yet, you are here having tea with me, no evil plans evident by the sounds of it either.” 

“I’m on a voluntary exile on Earth.” 

“You are just here to spend time with the Doctor, don’t tell me otherwise.” 

He’s silent and his lips purse, she laughs, “Well played, Ms Grant well played.” 

“It’s Jo, Master.” She repeats, but he smiles and it’s like she’s back in the seventies, “You have a different face but it’s still you, regeneration is so strange to me.” 

  
  


They both take a long sip of tea, “Regeneration is foreign to everyone, it’s very confusing- You met the face before me, she was an odd one.” 

“She was lovely.” Jo defended Missy with another wide grin, “She always brought these lovely petit fours from france, you remember that but forgot them this time.” 

“I won’t next time.” He spoke, taking another biscuit, “Promise, I’ll be here for awhile, so you will be seeing me more often, I promise.” 

His eyes sparkled, “You don’t have to bring the Doctor.” She states it, sipping her own tea and taking her own biscuit, “I enjoy your company, we don’t need her or need to talk about her… Anything else happening in your life?”

“I’m finding a therapist, out of spite mostly to my previous incarnations who never got their problems sorted…” His tea is almost gone so he picks up the pot again, she offers her own cup forwards and he pours hers first, “Going through the UNIT databases mostly, thought it would be easier if someone who actually knew about all of the stuff I did already and decided to still help me.” 

She nods, “I think I know a few people, Cliff is good at that kind of stuff these days too, Sarah Jane is also still around and she may know some people, I know she hired someone for her son recently.” 

“I doubt she would want to talk to me.” 

“Quite right, I’ve heard things.” 

“......I’m technically in prison.”

Jo grins, “I suppose you are.” 

They stare at each other before they laugh. 

“I’ve missed this.” The Master admits and Jo nods as she sips her tea again, “I really will come more often.” 

Her grin turns into a wide beaming smile that reminds him of when she was younger, “I know you will.” 

He doesn’t tell her why he’s promised to exactly… He wonders briefly if he should. 

* * *

  
  


The TARDIS has hidden his room again. 

After he gets back he spends an hour walking around trying to find it, it sends him all over the place and he longs for his own TARDIS who wouldn’t ever dream of hiding things from him… Or anyone else. 

So, he gives up and marches towards the Doctor’s room, if she's not back yet he can steal it to sleep in for the night. 

Her room is empty when he gets to it, a bit barren, clothing isn’t present on the floor and the bed is practically untouched… She hardly sleeps, that’s what it tells him and he wonders what she does instead. 

There is only a moment of hesitation on his end, before he sends his mind out hunting, seeing how far she was from him, how long she would be…. Just for her presence of mind more than anything else. 

It always came easily to just connect to her like this. 

_ Contact.  _

**Contact.**

Her voice is clear in his mind and she broadcasts a view of a table to him, UNO and pizza lying on it,  _ Having fun?  _ He asks. 

**Yes, did you?**

_ Jo was glad to see me, took everything in stride too…  _

**Going to bed?**

_ Yes, but the TARDIS hid my room so I’m stealing yours.  _

There’s laughter echoing in his head, but it’s not that of her newest face, no this is older and awakens different memories. 

**Go ahead, I’ll join you when I get back later.**

_ Promise?  _

**Promise.**

* * *

  
  


He’s actually asleep when she slips through the door, she half expected him to wait up for her and it does look like he at least tried to if the book in his lap is anything to go by.

She removes the reading glasses off of his face, he doesn’t even need them really, just likes to be dramatic, closing them and setting them down on the bedside table the Doctor is about to move away again when a hand grabs her wrist. 

He looks at her with half lidded eyes, “Welcome home.” It’s a simple whisper but it makes her smile and sends her back two thousand years or so, to a very different time. 

The Doctor looks at the Master this time and knows with this sentence that he won’t leave her, not again, not unless he’s forced. 

His lips quirk up and he pulls her into bed with him, shifting over, “I have to take my coat off-” 

“Sleep.” He murmurs against her collarbone and she finds herself unable to refuse him. 

This, she knows to be the best outcome. 

She does not want to consider any others. 

“Bored yet?” He asks after a moment of silence and she encircles her arms around his neck, making sure he’s snug up against her, before she lands her head in his hair. 

He’s warm, alive and breathing.

“Nope.” 

She could get used to this. 


End file.
